Chapter 66

But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling.

-Margaret Atwood.

|A L E E Z A|

In the dim light, the room revealed itself slowly—its worn-out walls, a flickering bulb casting feeble shadows, and a persistent chill that whispered of the lingering despair it held. As my senses adjusted, the recognition hit me with the force of a cruel revelation. This was the same room, the same haunting chamber where I had been trapped eight years ago as a frightened fifteen-year-old.

The ropes, etched into my skin, seemed to symbolize an unbroken thread connecting my past to the present. A shiver ran down my spine as I traced the itchy texture of my confinement. Memories, once buried deep, surged forward, and the room felt like a stage for the revival of my darkest nightmares.

The question lingered, unspoken but echoing within the confines of the space – why was I back here? The air was thick with a chilling silence, br